


Temper

by tea_petty



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Caught, Competitive, F/M, Face Slapping, Finger Sucking, Fingerfucking, Love/Hate, Penis In Vagina Sex, Smut, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:07:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25332142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tea_petty/pseuds/tea_petty
Summary: No one knows how to push her buttons like Gilbert.
Relationships: Prussia (Hetalia)/Reader
Kudos: 63





	Temper

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to my Tumblr; tea-pettiest

Several cups were remaining on both sides of the table, the once neat pyramids now riddled down to a few hapless rings, filled generously with frothy, amber beer.

“It’s your move,” Gilbert jeered from the other side, “so try not to screw it up.”

The music was pounding around them, so loud that she could feel the vibrations of it underfoot. 

She was grateful that for the most part, Gilbert’s trash talk got lost in the wall of noise, though her temper still flared at catching the shrewd crimson of his eyes. The amount of beer she’d drank already didn’t need to give her a proper reason to be pissed off at him; this ‘friendly’ competition was sufficient enough.

God, Alfred was lucky he had his own estate; Mother Theresa herself couldn’t have been a kind and forgiving neighbor when he was throwing keggers like this every other weekend.

Forget frat house, he ran the property like a frat mansion on the weekends and so this little scene, the one with the thumping bass, and various people passed out drunk, or else watching their little beer pong tournament with glassy-eyed stares, was a regular occurrence, as was hers and Gilbert’s rivalry.

Matthias clapped her hard across the back. He got that way when he had a few drinks – dumb to his own strength. Her knees threatened to buckle under the sudden impact.

“Don’t listen to him - he’s just trying to get in your head. We’re straight shooters.”

This was true; usually, she was, though she could feel her body sway like her blood had turned to sand that was funneling through her with the injudicious guidance of glass veins. Every movement she made felt like it threatened to pull her terribly off balance.

Matthias made both shots in two cups – there was only one left on the other side. It would be a difficult shot, but the odds were in their favor, especially since Alfred and Gilbert only made one cup between the two of them.

The two white ping-pong balls nestled in the palm of her hand seemed to slant and double. Fuck, if she missed this shot that jagoff was never going to let her hear the end of it. 

Her annoyance flared with surprising vigor, and she doused the heat with her drink – that is, the tequila she was sipping on the side of her in-game penalties. 

“If you want to drink more then just hurry up so I can finish this game already!”

“Fuck off, Gil,” she mumbled, steadying her hand as she raised the ping-pong ball.

She aimed as best she could. From her peripheral vision, she could barely make out Gilbert cupping his hands around his mouth.

“Don’t miss!”

The last syllable seemed to invoke a spasm in her wrist; when she tossed the ball, it sailed over the cups, ricocheted off the edge of the table, and disappeared into some forgotten corner of the room.

“Oh, boo - she dropped the ball too!”

Alfred, who was opening another beer just for himself, laughed boisterously at this.

“Yeah, dude, she _totally_ ‘dropped the ball’!”

She raised the second ball in her hand – there was only one cup, which meant that if she sunk this, she could wipe those stupid smiles off their faces. Two for the price of one? She could get her shit together for that.

“C’mon,” Matthias sounded from behind her. “You’ve got this. Keep a cool head. Relax your shoulder. It’s all in the wrist.”

She pinched her eyes shut and took a deep breath. Matthias was right; drop the shoulder, flick the wrist. 

She felt light – she knew that was the alcohol – but light was good, right? Light as in the ball would sail to its destination and not fall short.

She thought of this and felt her body go through the motions. When the ball left her fingers her eyes snapped open.

Fuck! 

She’d forgotten to open her eyes! 

She’d forgotten to aim! What the-

Everyone watched the ball make its arc through the air, Gilbert, and Alfred in particular, watching as it made a clean cut towards their final cup.

“Holy hell.”

Gilbert’s hand shot out in a flash and there was a barely audible tap as the ball bounced off the heel of his hand, and sunk satisfyingly into the cup.

“Oh!”

“Nice!” 

Several voices from around the room whooped and whistled at the incredible victory. From near the dartboard a few feet away, Arthur and Jett had paused their game to spectate. 

“There it is!” Matthias came up from behind her and scooped her up into a big bear hug. 

“I told you, you could do it!”

She laughed, letting Matthias’ movements jostle her so much, she felt like her heart and stomach were rattling around inside of her like a pair of dice. She barely noticed the sharp look Gilbert was giving her.

“Now, wait a minute,” he demanded as Matthias set her down. “There was interference, so that couldn’t have counted.”

There was that riptide temper of hers again. She rounded on Gilbert, her hands at her hips.

“What do you mean? _You_ were the interference. Not only did it count, but it smoked your ass.”

“I’m not saying it wasn’t a great shot,” Gilbert crossed his arms over his chest, his lips having turned in that infuriating, lopsided smile of his. If anything, he was over beer pong now; just from her reaction alone, he’d found a new fun game to play. “I’m just saying that it doesn’t mean a win for you.”

“It totally does!”

He opened his mouth to speak again, and she felt heat sear her from the inside. She wasn’t sure if she could trust herself to not drunkenly pick a fight with this man. 

“You know what, Gil? Hold that thought, I have to go to the bathroom.”

He chuckled, watching as she tossed her hair over her shoulder and flounced out of the room and down the hall. The music grew fainter as she crossed the corridor, the vibrations disappearing as she reached the bathroom.

If anything, this would mean a few moments of quiet from him, which would hopefully put her awful temper to bed for the evening.

She paused, leaning heavily on the door, closed her eyes, and took a cleansing breath. 

Like this, the room stopped spinning in kaleidoscope shadows that encroached on the edges of her vision. 

It felt a little better. The prickling heat in her blood seemed to subside.

“I’m right you know – you technically didn’t win.”

There was _that_ voice again and incredibly close too. Away from the music, it had no issue cutting into her.

She didn’t open her eyes. She didn’t need to; she knew who it was, and could easily envision that stupid, leery grin of his without actually seeing him.

“Ugh, Gil, you _followed_ me?”

He laughed, and the sound sent heat pooling between her legs. 

“Just wanted to make sure you weren’t further deluding yourself into thinking you scored a cheap victory.”

“Oh, piss off. Matthias and I totally won.”

“Geez, what a mouth you have on you. Someone needs a time out.”

She scoffed, turning, ready to rejoin the party – or maybe just ready to get away from him again. 

Gilbert seemed to have other ideas; he caught her wrist before she could wander too far, and dragged her off into one of the side doors in the hallway. 

She was startled to find herself alone with Gilbert in a bedroom the next moment, though based on the dated furnishings and coat of dust the furniture was sporting, it obviously wasn’t one Alfred used regularly. Gilbert didn’t seem to be thinking about the furniture.

“What are we doing in here?”

He grinned, and from the shine in his eyes, she could tell he was absolutely drunk as well. 

His grip on her wrist slackened a bit slipping down to trail a feather-light touch at her fingertips. This startled her; he’d never touched her like that. 

Really, they didn’t make a habit of touching each other, but especially not with this sort of reverence. 

Her heart pounded in her chest and she felt her face warm. Mix that with her drunkenness, and she thought she felt a little nauseated.

“Gil, stop.”

She jerked her hand away and Gil reached for her again, his movements jerky and sloppy, like his body lagged under his brain’s decision to move and was playing catch up.

“Hang on.”

His next touch went to her waist, and a nervous flutter erupted in her. She felt hyperaware of how her silky tank top rode up from the waistband of her miniskirt. She batted his hand away.

“Cut it out.”

In playing hard to get, she seemed to be putting an emphasis on ‘hard’. 

Gilbert reached for her again.

“Damn it, woman, could you just-“

This time he used both hands, and the end result was her back against the wall, and his body caging her to it. His knee was wedged between her knees, and she could feel his body heat through the clothes of his pant leg. The shameful little urge to sink down and grind her sex against it occurred to her, and she was surprised to notice now that the crotch of her panties was already wet. 

The anticipation of his body over hers was enough to bring awareness to how much she wanted to feel his crushing weight, and how restless she felt under his stare. His nose was inches away from hers.

“Let go of me.”

She’d intended to sound strong, but she hadn’t been able to bring herself to meet his eyes, and her voice had caught on its way out.

Gilbert didn’t answer nor did he obey.

When she had finally mustered the courage to look at him, he was still watching her, his eyes boring into hers. From this proximity, she thought they looked rather beautiful – they looked less red, and more of a russet, red mellowed with a rich brown. She blinked mutely, momentarily entranced at the peculiar loveliness of him; fair skin and white eyelashes. He was fine-boned, with a rosy flush to his cheeks – probably from all the drinking.

She was so busy with these little details, that she hadn’t noticed how his face seemed to be looming closer. Even when their warm breath clouded together, she didn’t seem to register what exactly what was happening; her heart sped up, time slowed down, but it wasn’t until his lips were on hers, that she understood.

He kissed her with the soft sound of his mouth fastening to hers and a soft suck. 

Immediately, she felt enthralled with the feel of him, her annoyance at him, momentarily damned. 

Drunk or not, he was still incredibly adept, his lips meshing to hers, tucking with an adeptness she would’ve thought abandoned him. His mouth, while warm, was not gentle. It was like he was afraid she wouldn’t answer him. The kiss was heated, and she moved her mouth furiously in return, not wanting to be lost to his own wants in pursuit of her own. 

She felt a steady heat rise in her; and while she loved the push of his body against hers, she didn’t like how he must’ve enjoyed having her pinned and at his mercy. She nipped sharply at his bottom lip for good measure.

She felt his breath hitch with his surprise and he grunted, that leery smile working its way into their kiss.

“Still putting up a fight,” he murmured.

Their lips met again, their teeth knocking together in their haste, their lips moving at a harried pace, scrambling to make up for the time lost to the clumsy movement. She tasted the sourness of the beer at his breath and wondered if she tasted the same. 

He felt like a furnace against her, hot and smothering. She wanted to melt into him.

His hands slipped from their grasps at her wrists and his entire body shuddered forwards into her. She gasped, letting his weight press her harder against the wall, the heat of his body stoking the burgeoning fever in hers.

She thought he was going to hold her tighter; he surprised her by grinding up against her. 

Her skirt rode up dangerously high at her thighs, and at the feeling of the hardness in the bulge of his trousers, she let out a little, unwitting moan. Her cheeks seared a vicious red and she braced her hands against his chest, shoving him away.

Gilbert staggered back a few feet, eyes wide and bewildered. His erection was rather obvious now that she knew to look. 

“What the hell?”

“Who even said I _wanted_ to sleep with you?” She asked indignantly.

She thought the fever of her embarrassment might choke her. She felt herself sway unsteadily on her feet, and she kept back against the wall to avoid falling.

Gilbert glared at her, coming in to once again cage her against the wall. His hot breath fanned across her face and she turned her head away, not able to look him in the eyes when she was pounding for him so desperately.

“That nice little sound you made for me, that’s who.”

Gilbert reached down and slipped his hand between her legs, feeling up along her inner thighs, fondling gently as the motion brought the rest of her skirt up with him.

She stood frozen at his touch, her panties growing wetter as he felt his way up. 

When his fingers reached her crotch, he rubbed two of them against her sex, feeling the silkiness of her arousal as it seeped through the thin garment and gathered at his fingers.

“This too,” he grunted, clearly pleased.

Her chest heaved as she forced even breaths in the wake of the pleasure that shot through her. 

As he rubbed, sometimes his middle finger would catch a spot dangerously close to her clit, and she’d have to stop herself from rocking her hips against his touch to force his hand. 

Her head fell back and she felt another moan rise in her throat. Before she could out herself as being hopelessly wanting for him, she batted his hands away, clamping her thighs shut with a force that had her arousal buzzing.

Gilbert gave a dark chuckle and one hand came up beside her head to steady himself above her. 

His other hand reached for her sex again, her skirt still caught snuggly at her hips, leaving her soaked panties bared to him. 

“Stop playing with me, I’m fucking hor-“

At the feeling of his fingers at her sex again she jolted, and without meaning to, her hand came up and slapped him hard across the face.

They watched each other in mirrored surprise, neither of them having expected that. 

His left cheek was an inflamed red from where she’d struck him, and she had half a mind to reach up and try and brush away the pain, though she figured he wanted her hands nowhere near him right now.

“O-oh,” her voice caught in her throat. “Gilbert, I’m sorry, that was an accident, I don’t-“

“For fuck’s sake,” he growled before his arms were around her and bringing her hard against his body. 

His mouth was on hers with an unforgiving passion. She stiffened in his grasp and when she didn’t kiss him back, his hands slipped up into her hair, anchoring her in his touch. She felt the edge of his teeth against her bottom lip – payback for earlier.

“Do you really not want me at all?” 

His lips still hovered right over hers and she could feel him watching her down the bridge of his nose. A pang went through her chest. Is that really what he thought? If he’d asked her earlier, she might’ve confirmed this, but now, with his hands making her skin sing and the taste of him lingering in her mouth, she couldn’t say that she felt the same.

She didn’t answer, nor could she look at him. 

Instead, she just reached up to grab at the front of his shirt. She gave a short little tug and when she lifted her head to face his more fully, her eyes were already shut – bracing for when his mouth made impact on hers again.

She kissed back with more enthusiasm now, wanting him to understand that she did want him – but that she’d never say it aloud. Gilbert seemed to appreciate her responsiveness; when she parted her lips for him, he wasted no time in thrusting his tongue into her mouth.

She moaned at the feeling of this new, wet closeness, and she sagged against him, her hold on him slackening, her body giving in to the buoyancy of her drunkenness and the stability his body lent to hers. The sound reverberated into the kiss and Gilbert felt his cock twitch.

He pulled her closer; gentle this time. One hand left her hair and went to her jaw in a cradling touch. He drew the pad of his thumb across her cheek and she sighed, suddenly overwhelmed by exactly how much she wanted him.

His hands angled her head up and his lips easily dropped from her mouth to her neck. He focused on where her neck met her jaw, nibbling lightly and peppering kisses. When he felt her breath catch, he sunk his teeth lightly into the sensitive skin, and sucked, leaving splotches of petal-like marks at her skin.

“Oh _God_ -“

At the sound of her voice, Gilbert grinned, reveling in how her fingers tensed at him. 

He continued to kiss his way, down, down, down, dipping his tongue along the ridge of her clavicle and tracing along the indent at the sinewy bone. He could taste the salt and stickiness of her skin, and it only made his cock throb. 

His nose skimmed down her sternum and he nuzzled into her cleavage.

Gilbert groaned.

“How intense did that game get? I can taste beer _everywhere_ on you.”

Her cheeks flared at this and she seemed to lurch away from him. He pressed his body against hers, trapping her against the wall.

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it.”

He licked a wet stripe across the tops of her breasts and her blush intensified. She pinched her eyes shut, her brow pulling into a frustrated furrow.

Gilbert reached for the straps of her top, intending to tug them over her shoulders, but the fabric didn’t have enough give. After a few tries, he seemed to grow tired of the resistance. She watched, her chest heaving, as he gave up with the straps and reached down for the hem of her tank top. 

One hand snaked up, driving the fabric up with it, as he reached under to grope at a breast.

His eyebrows shot up at the immediate feel of her softness in his palm. The pink tinge at his cheeks reappeared.

“You’re not wearing a bra? How did I not _notice_?”

His restlessness seemed to return and his grasp disappeared for a moment to return to the hem of her top.

“Lift your arms,” he grunted.

She obeyed, and in the next instance, Gilbert had tugged the garment up and over her head, leaving it to pool at the floor. Automatically, she reached to cover herself.

“ _Gil_ , what if someone comes in?”

Gilbert had no qualms forcing her arms down and hoisting her against him.

“Then it’s their lucky day.”

She yelped as he face-planted into her breasts, nuzzling deeper in a series of open-mouthed kisses that had her writhing against his pleasant ministrations.

“ _Ah_!-“

Gilbert’s mouth closed around her nipple and gave a suck. Her fingers reached to card through his hair, clutching him close, cradling his head to her chest. She stiffened when she felt his teeth tease lightly around the sensitive bud.

“Be gentle with me,” she whined.

“Why? You’ve never needed it before.”

His eyes met hers in the low light and it was enough to sap the strength from her knees then and there. She leaned heavily on him, weak to how he could manipulate her body. How could a single person piss her off so much, and yet, be the one thing that her body craved more than anything?

It was infuriating. This fury made her arousal pound harder.

His mouth left her nipple and he nosed at her breast once more, loving the feel of its weightiness against his face before he knelt in front of her. She peered down at him, waiting for his next move. 

Her skirt was already scrunched snuggly up around her hips.

Gilbert locked his eyes with hers and reached up to hook his fingers at the waistband of her panties, dragging them down her legs to her ankles. He yanked them over her heels and her underwear hit the floor with a soft ‘tap’, weighed down by the soaked crotch. She shivered as the cool of exposure washed over her bared sex.

She had half a mind to clamp her thighs together, but Gilbert was already reaching up to rub his fingers at her wet folds. He pressed upwards against her heat, moving deliberately. As the movement spread her and deepened, it made a lewd, wet sound.

She felt her face warm and she brought a hand up to cover her face. Gilbert grinned wickedly.

“Did you hear that?” he asked, already knowing the answer, but now craving a confession. “What a naughty girl.”

He rubbed, delving deeper into her folds. His thumb came up to catch at her clit with surprising certainty of where it was, and she moaned.

“Mm. Keep making those sounds and I’ll reward you.”

She burned at this; both with the quiet indignation of being his to ‘reward’ as well as with the need to seek the fruits of such a promise.

His thumb nudged at her clit with great skillfulness and she suddenly wondered at how many partners he’d had up against a wall like this. This doubt troubled her, though he was too far to push away now, and with the wonderful movements of his hands sapping her of her pride, she wasn’t sure she’d be strong enough to push him away anyhow.

He watched her, one lithe finger prodding at her entrance. When she didn’t say anything, he slipped it in, easing slowly into her as if watching for the slightest sign of discomfort.

As there was none, he started pumping at a formidable pace. The wet sounds of him at her cunt became louder and more frequent, and the delicate drag of him inside of her only inflamed her need, not being anywhere close to enough to appease her. Still, she felt her mind cloud; disappearing into the heavy, beer-laden, lusty fog. She floated in her fever, her body dedicating its every faculty to _feeling_ Gilbert as much as it could.

She bit back a desperate little whine.

He said her name, snapping her just to the surface of her heady desire.

“Hm?”

“I want to _hear_ you.”

His voice had a streak of silver in it; a hardness, an edge, that his usual irreverent demeanor sometimes flashed, like a magician showing someone a quarter before he made it disappear and pulled it from their ear. When she looked at him through half-lidded eyes, he was with a seriousness that almost rendered him unrecognizable. Her thighs twitched; she was to obey him.

When he added a second finger, she moaned again. She didn’t have to wonder long about when to expect that ‘reward’ he mentioned; with the arrival of a second finger, came a more satisfying pace. His thumb reached out to nudge at her clit again and her knees almost buckled.

Gilbert grunted in approval.

“That’s right, _frau_. You like what I can do to you, hm?”

She clenched around him, the sound of his voice making her as hot as anything his hands could do now that she let it. She shuddered deeply as his fingers reached skillfully inside of her. When she cracked her eyes open to peek at him, the intensity of his stare alone almost made her come.

Despite her earlier reservations, she suddenly wanted to give him plenty to see. She leaned heavily against the wall and arched towards him at the next sweet, peal of pleasure that rippled through her body. 

Her thighs clamped around his hand and she squeezed herself around his fingers. Her head dropped back with a dull thud, and she groaned, making sure to keep her lips parted lest he want to stick something between them.

Gilbert swore, wanting to bury his cock in the wet mess he was making of her right now, but refusing to skimp out on getting her nice and stretched properly; after this, he wasn’t sure he had it in him to be gentle.

Each pump seemed to bring about a new wet sound, as well as a new rush of her slick that seeped out past his fingers and dripped down between her thighs.

“You’re making a mess for Alfred to clean up later.”

Her face flushed at this, and Gilbert prepared to slip a third finger into her. 

“Please don’t mention his name when you’re…when we’re…”

Gilbert grinned wickedly at this. How could he possibly not press at this newfound button?

He slipped another finger in, and though there was a little resistance, she took him easily enough, only letting out a small grunt of discomfort at the faint burning stretch she felt. Gilbert was back to pumping, picking up the pace yet again so that he was stuffing his fingers in and out of her hole at a near-frenzied rate.

“Why? It’s his house, you know. He could walk in at any second.” When Gilbert rubbed at her clit now, it was no longer gently. It was like he was trying to rip her orgasm from her tightly clenched fists.

“What would you do if he walked in and caught us like this?” 

She pinched her eyes shut, unable to watch him as he looked at her like that. She tried to imagine what he was saying; multiple eyes on her bare, vulnerable form.

“What if he walked in on _you_ like this, you riding my hand, dripping all over his floor, with your tits out-“

“ _Gil_ ,” she wailed, her hands finding her face again.

She felt so trashy when he talked about her this way. Her stomach flipped and she clenched around him. 

“Don’t worry _hase_ , I don’t like sharing much, so this view is just for me.” His free hand reached up to cup her breast and give it a squeeze. Her hands fell from her face and she reached to shyly brush her fingers up the length of his arm. 

He was making her feel good, no doubt bout that, though she craved having a warm body close; someone to hold onto and bury her face into. 

“ _Mein Gott_ , you are so fucking wet. Can you hear how good you take my fingers?”

As if on cue, he pulled another slick sound from her sex. At the next upward thrust of Gilbert’s fingers, she sort of let herself fall onto them, loving the rough scrape of his knuckles against her, and craving something more. Her hips jerked, and with her eyes shut, and her pride resolutely swallowed anyway, she let her body react to his fingers the way she really wanted to. 

Her hips snapped forward to meet his pumps halfway, her thighs closing around his wrist on an inward-thrust to keep him there as she rutted against him.

It took Gilbert a few tugs to get his hand back, though he looked pleased with the fight she gave him.

“So needy,” he reached his hand up.

His index, middle, and ring fingers were shining with her slick. She watched as he licked a long stripe up the side before sticking all three in his mouth, sucking the traces of her from him.

Her chest was heaving again and she felt another wet dribble down along her inner thigh.

“Don’t worry, I have something that will fill you much better than my fingers.”

She blushed at this and Gilbert rose to his feet.

“Go to the bed and bend over.”

The order dropped heat through her. Her heart seemed to balk in her chest.

She hobbled over to the bed, her arms wrapped across her chest. She was hyperaware of every minute shift of her body and how his eyes trailed her from behind. 

She leaned over, planting her hands in the soft duvet. Her breasts hung beneath her, and even though no one could see her like this, she felt self-conscious. Her skirt was still caught around her hips. She felt the heat of Gilbert as he loomed behind her, his hips pressed to her ass. 

She stiffened, the velvet feel of his erection searing hot as he pressed at her, telling her that he’d already pulled himself from his trousers. 

One of his hands came to grab a generous handful of her ass, and he gave a squeeze. He moved his hand, watching her body shift under his grip, before he let go of her, and smoothed his palm soothingly across her right buttock. 

On her left, his hand reached up to palm her breast, rubbing focusedly at the hardened peak of her breast. 

“Mm, that’s a good girl. Let me take care of you.”

The sentiments might’ve been soft in themselves, but they sounded anything but coming out of his mouth.

Gilbert didn’t even warn her before he started pushing into her. He never paused, never waited, and as the third finger had predicted, there was a little pain with this entry.

She groaned, trying to force herself to relax around his formidable girth as he entered her. 

The burning stretch was stronger than it had been with three fingers, and she felt her grip tighten on the covers beneath her.

“Good girl,” Gilbert repeated, his voice tight.

No sooner had he hilted himself inside of her, he was already thrusting at a rough, fast pace that left her scrambling to catch up. His hips slapped against her, that sound punctuating that of how wet she was. 

The pain was still very much there, though, and so was the pleasure. She’d already been on her way to her release when Gilbert had removed his fingers. Her body easily recognized this different means to the same end. With each stroke, her pleasure seemed to grow, and her pain, shrink.

Gilbert’s grip on her was clammy from the sweat they were both working up; one hand on her breast, catching every sweet motion that ricocheted through her body, the other, at her hip, guiding her back to him. 

The hand on his hip reached up to tug her skirt further up, over her hip bones so he could have a firmer grasp, but the skirt was too tight, the stretched fabric refusing to climb any higher at her curves.

Gilbert gave a particularly rough thrust after this attempt – out of frustration? When he spoke, he sounded anything but put off though.

“ _Fuck_ , you have such a great body.”

As if to reiterate this, he brought his hand down hard across her ass without skipping a beat as he pounded into her. At the sting of his palm against her, she yelped and clenched unwittingly around him.

Gilbert groaned, his cock twitching inside of her.

“Gil, you’re too _rough_.”

He said nothing, though she felt him lower over her, his chest over her back. Something soft pressed into her hair – his lips? 

It was the only tenderness she could discern as he fucked her, and so it must’ve been his version of an apology.

He kept slamming into her, and with each impact, she found herself tightening further. 

Clenching around him came more and more frequently and sometimes, she’d feel him twitch back. The hand at her breast dropped off to brace at the duvet, next to hers.

“I’m…” he grunted. “-fuck, I can’t hold out much longer. You’re so fucking _tight_.”

She gave another squeeze and his pace faltered momentarily.

Then both hands went to her hips, pinching into a near-painful grip; his thrusts came more quickly, a rapid-fire of shallow pumps.

“ _Gilbert_ ,” she sighed.

He pounded into her, and she could tell he was close to spilling inside of her. He twitched and she let her eyes shut as she leaned back, spearing herself onto him as deep as she could.

“Hey, do you guys-“

At the sound of another voice, they froze and her heart seized against her ribs. She tightened around him abruptly as panic leaped in her chest. She tried to twist to see who it was, but Gilbert was still inside of her and was blocking the intruder from her view. 

Gilbert made a strangled sort of noise as he looked to the door, wide-eyed. She felt a burst of warmth inside of her – he’d come, though he probably couldn’t enjoy it as he wanted to. She shrank back against his chest, desperate to disappear, as far as their intruder was concerned.

“Oh shit, dude, is that-“

“Get _out_.”

Gilbert’s voice sounded frayed.

The door shut. 

She hadn’t realized until then that she’d taken to holding her breath. Both of them now took a few moments to catch theirs, his chest rising and falling so steeply that she could feel its press and release against her back. 

She turned and looked at him.

“You-“

Now it was Gilbert’s turn to feel the heat; his face was seared red and he reached up to run a hand over his eyes.

“Yeah. Yeah, I did.”

She gave an experimental squeeze, feeling his softening member inside of her. His brow twitched at the ministration, and when his hand dropped from his face, he was frowning.

“Did you…?”

Normally, she would’ve loved to have rubbed outlasting him in his face – especially after what had transpired earlier. Here though, he was without his usual cocky look. 

“I was close.”

Her voice came out like a consolation prize, and he sighed, wounded.

“Gil, it’s okay, I-“

He looked at her seriously.

“We are never to mention Alfred’s name when we are doing this, ever again.”

It didn’t go unnoticed by her that he seemed to assume they’d be doing this again. Her stomach flipped and she couldn’t help but feel her face warm.

“Right.”

“I’m serious; we jinxed it.”

She laughed, though her walls practically ached as he slipped out of her, and she stifled a whimper, knowing well that Gilbert, against all odds, seemed to feel bad enough already. She plotted against her disappointment, having half a mind to actually steal away into the bathroom to ‘finish the job’.

She heard the sound of the zip as Gilbert tucked himself back into his trousers and she straightened up, ready to tug her skirt back down and go in search of her shirt.

“Now, lay on your back,” he directed, much to her surprise. 

“Huh?”

She turned to look at him just in time for her to push her back onto the bed. He dropped to his knees and the mattress divoted under his weight. Her thighs caught at his shoulders as he slotted between her thighs.

“When you come, make sure to scream my name loud enough for them to hear outside,” he said, his eyes flashing. 

Her head dropped back against the mattress as his lips melded to her sex.


End file.
